Sugar
by ProfessorFerrars3256
Summary: After working together for seven years, tea had become a tradition between HG and SS, but suddenly HG has developed feelings far more than friendship for SS. Will he return her affections? EWE- disregards SS's death. A bit of fluff and angst in 13,000 words. No warnings aside from an episode of PTSD.


**AN: Just a bit of fluff and a little drama, most errors finally fixed. Thank you for reading- let me know what you think!**

It was Friday and as though Hermione Granger was a timed portkey, she arrived punctually, exactly on time, knocking lightly three times and looking as disheveled as she normally did when he opened the door. Rushing past him, Hermione immediately plopped on his comfy leather chair, her favorite chair, and found the biscuits and tea piping hot, waiting for her on the table between them. If he had noticed her slightly puffy eyes, he didn't say anything, he simply closed the door gingerly, his hand resting on the black door knob for a moment before turning to her, and sitting across from her, prepared to serve.

"Sugar?" He asked, pouring the tea, using the sifter to stop the loose leaves from leaving too much residue in the bottom of her cup, knowing how much it reminded her of her failure in Divination. Sometimes when there was too much residue, she did consider what the symbols could possibly mean, feeling foolish. But, then again, she often felt foolish in front of Severus Snape who always appeared so well put together.

"Yes, please." His eyebrow immediately raised in surprise; she never took sugar and he'd almost stopped asking, but every once in awhile, when she was clearly on her monthly, he knew she would take sugar. 'Perhaps that is why she is in a snit', he thought, dropping a cube into her cup, then another as her eyes met his in a showdown of scowls. Coal black eyes, more like obsidian or onyx when one was close, battled her honey eyes, but she won- he couldn't compete with her when she was obviously upset.

"Do you want to talk about it, or are you prepared to sit there in huffy annoyance?" Taking her tea, her fingers brushed his and she visibly calmed.

"I prefer my annoyance, thanks. It will pass in a moment." She breathed in deeply, keeping her eyes on his, thinking back to the morning when she'd seen him speaking with Headmistress Septima Vector, when she felt jealousy for the first time and instantaneously realized that her feelings for her former professor had changed significantly. Never had she ever looked at him in such scrutiny, to feel a sudden heat rise in her as he leaned in to speak to the headmistress, laughing as he did. Although she had no claim on him, she had thought after their detente and subsequent companionship that she was his best friend. Ron and Harry had their own lives, were married with children and homes far beyond Hogwarts; even if it hadn't been intended, Severus has become her confidant, someone she relied on explicitly and though she wasn't normally, Hermione recognized the jealousy. It was the same feeling she'd experienced in sixth year with Ron and Lavender, his now wife. In Hermione's mind, Severus had now become more than her friend and that frightened more than she cared to admit.

"Would you consider yourself my friend, Severus?" Hermione asked abruptly, forcing her eyes towards the fire. They'd been having tea together every Friday for five years, since she'd come back to Hogwarts seven years prior and wore him down slowly, ingratiating herself in his life. It had taken two years to make him see that she was no longer the student in his potions classroom, eagerly waving her hand and seeking his approval. Perhaps she still sought his approval, but now it was concerning her teaching abilities and not so much her ability to brew potions. Teaching Arithmancy had brought her in close contact with Severus Snape often, which she hadn't expected when she'd first been offered the position by Headmistress Vector seven years prior, and though she was trepidatious about befriending him, reminding herself of the years he had been practically unbearable, he was the closest in age to her and she found that once she talked to him a few times, she discovered someone completely different than she'd expected.

Firstly, he had a sense of humor; this had surprised her the most. At a faculty meeting two weeks into her first year, he'd cast a disappearing ink charm on Vector's list of topics to discuss, though it had been so subtle she wouldn't have known it was him if she hadn't made eye contact with him moments after Vector noticed her topics were fading from the parchment. Secondly, he wasn't nearly as caustic now that he wasn't beholden to two masters. Surprised as she was that he even survived the final battle, she was more surprised when she'd heard that he'd gone back to the school as the Potions Master, but after they began having tea together, she realized that Hogwarts was the only home he'd ever known. It made her feel pity for him, but certainly never in front of him; he did not suffer fools, that hadn't changed, and showing him that she pitied him for his childhood and early adulthood would've made their weekly tea meetings cease. But the biggest change was realizing that he had several obsessions, things she had expected and then would never have guessed. He loved books, she knew that. He loved sitting in the misting rain or snow flurries, no consideration to the dampening of his frock coat or trousers; she had never seen him quite so peaceful as when she came across him in the courtyard of the Arithmancy class, sitting quietly on her favorite bench as snow flurries fell on him, he'd looked like an angel in the moment. The thing that surprised her the most, however, was his ability to comfort and empathize with her and others, though he was still quite surly most of the time, when someone he respected or considered worthy needed him, he was available in ways she hadn't imagined. And though they had never even broached the subject of their chemistry, suddenly so obvious to her, she'd always felt a kinship to him from that first faculty meeting. His obsession with the care of his friends was the greatest revelation of her acquaintance with Severus Snape; it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but it did. His obsession with dark chocolate covered raisins could fill notebooks of observation, as well. He was quirky and interesting, a far better friend than she ever thought he would be, and she didn't want to ruin what they had by admitting her attraction.

"Earth to Hermione, what did you ask, you were mumbling?" Came the deep baritone of his voice, pulling her from her reverie.

"Would you consider yourself my friend, I asked." Absentmindedly, Hermione stirred her tea, the tiny spoon clinking the side of her cup a few times before she finally realized what she was doing.

"What an inane question." Suddenly, his temperature rose a degree, could she possibly care for him as more than a friend? He immediately wondered where the linge of questioning was going.

"You don't have to be spiky, I'm just curious." Finally, looking back to him, Hermione felt her stomach flip; this wasn't happening, she wasn't falling for him.

"Oh you being curious, how original. Of course we're friends, I wouldn't listen to your prattle if we weren't, nor would we be drinking tea right now, in my sitting room, in my personal chambers." Sparking the fire with his wand, she felt herself flush thinking about being in his quarters, and then reminding herself she'd been in his quarters at least once a week for years, she'd even slept in his bed before, when they'd stayed up drinking wine or whiskey, and she couldn't make it back to hers, not even through the floo. It had never crossed her mind, then, when she'd lain next to him on the queen size four poster bed, to even consider him a man and she certainly hadn't thought about him in a romantic way. Now, thinking back, she wished she had, she wished she'd reach over to him when she'd had the chance and touched his hair, his soft skin she'd learned was so silken when a potion explosion had him calling to her to help him cleanse his burned skin on his neck, just below his hairline almost too near his scars from Nagini's bite.

"You're drifting away again; where's your head?" His tone caught her attention again, he seemed mildly amused by her inattention.

"I'm just...something, err, umm…"

"And inarticulate. Would you prefer to drink your tea alone? I can busy myself with grading, loathe as I am to read the drivel of the fourth years." The familiar smirk she expected from him painted his face and she felt relief, she could talk about school, that would be safe, she thought.

"Don't bother with grading unless you're that motivated, I'm just having an odd day is all." She watched him take a sip of his tea, the steam waft around his nose, making him look slightly angelic again, and her heart lept. Where had these feelings come from?

"Odd doesn't describe how you're acting, but I will leave it at that." She had to smile at him, she knew he was curious but unlike her whenever he wanted to implore further, he waited, bided his time, watched her and paid attention to her, and often figured his answer out without asking, whereas Hermione wasn't observant enough to answer questions for herself, most likely why she had just figured out her attraction to him.

"Vector wants me to put a team together for realigning curriculum with the Ministry, how do you feel about meeting with a drone once a month until the end of the year and ignoring his protestations?" She watched his thumb and fingers run steadily over the armrest of his chair, drumming a familiar tune, and she smiled again, thinking of the possibility of shenanigans.

"If it means the possibility of disappearing ink, then sign me up." Tipping her cup to him in a jesting toast, Hermione finished her tea and took a biscuit as Severus poured her another cup, foregoing the softer this time as he was curious about her behavior.

"Sugar?" Without pause, she replied, "Yes, please." She hoped the tea would calm her nerves further, relieve her of the odd sensations she was having each time she looked to him. It was tea, they had it every week, yet she couldn't stop thinking about his hands, the way felt the time she fell when they were walking to Hogsmeade for dinner with the staff, and how he hadn't let go of her arm the rest of the way. If she'd even considered him then, it would've set her heart a flutter to be on his arm, to have him care enough to make sure she made it back to the castle after a few too many drinks. Thinking about it made her wish she could forget her sudden attraction, to just sit with him quietly for their Friday tea and not imagine what it would be like to be his, to get to sit with him everyday, to feel hands on hers, to kiss his lips. Sighing, she took another sip and closed her eyes, trying to stop the thoughts of him from destroying her ability to behave normally.

"You really are in a snit, aren't you?" Her eyes snapped open and she realized she was slouched back in the seat, head pointed towards the ceiling with her legs folded under her. She hadn't even realized she'd moved at all, little alone had completely shifted her body in such a contorted way. Resting her cup in her hand, she considered bringing up her affliction, but decided it was best to let it die out, to ignore how enticed she was simply looking across a sitting room at him, than to admit to something that could possibly be a passing fancy.

"I"m sure it'll right itself in no time." She replied vaguely, as his eyebrow reached normal questioning height and then settled with the sly grin on his lips, making things markedly worse for her. Finally, she finished her tea and for once, she didn't mind seeing the tea leaves which had settled on the bottom. Glancing down curiously, she saw what looked like a locomotive, like the Hogwarts express almost and a ladybird, the shape of the evil Rita Skeeter. Rolling her eyes, she placed the cup on the tray and popped her knuckles, a habit she knew Severus hated.

"Must you?"

"Sorry, it's been a trying day." He looked into her saucer, eyeing the shape conspicuously.

"Planning a trip?" Although neither put any stock in the apparent art of Divination, Hermione had wondered if he saw the same shapes as she did.

"I'd have to consult my divination book from third year, but apparently I am. Although, I cannot recall exactly what a locomotive represents."

"Or a ladybird." So he had seen the same shapes in the tea leaves, knowing that the locomotive represented travel or someone finding a final destination and that the ladybird meant one had found love or at least an attraction.

"A mystery for sure. And what of yours?" He drank the last sip of his tea and looked peculiarly at his tea leaves.

"I seem to have a ladybird as well, only a tiny ladybird." Handing his cup to Hermione as she leaned over to him, she noticed his cologne wafting up to her, filling her nostrils like every delicious summer soup her mum made or the breeze of the ocean in Devon where they vacationed. Taking a quick look, she laughed, it was a ladybird just like hers. He couldn't help pestering her when she was so incredibly out of control; he enjoyed watching her squirm, making sure his tea leaves formed the same shape as hers.

"You did this on purpose." She teased, handing it back but not sitting back in the chair.

"And why would I take the time to create shapes in our tea leaves?" His eyes flashed upwards toward her, glancing for a moment at the tiny hint of cleavage exposed as her arms folded across her chest, inhaling her scent in kind. 'Perhaps he is as curious as I am', she hoped but then again, he was a man and when presented with breasts they almost all took a peak.

"You knew it would make me laugh, that's why. Poor old Sybil." Hermione knew she needed to leave his room, to put space between her feelings and his person.

"Why would I want to make you laugh? You snort like a pig when you laugh and besides, tea leaves fall how they will." Pretending to be perturbed, Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, taking her hands through her hair before walking to the door. Severus hoped she understood that their matching ladybirds meant something, that he would be open to her affections if she ever felt compelled to express them.

"Thank you for tea, Severus, sorry I'm in such a snit, as you say." She dared one more glance, finding him much closer to her than she thought he'd be as she reached the door, finding his hand on the knob before she could turn it, hers falling on top of his momentarily.

"Fix it before next Friday or I'll be forced to give you veritaserum." He whispered, almost low enough that she barely heard him and then added. "We will meet Monday about the realignment, if I don't see you before then, have a pleasant weekend, Professor Granger." Hermione rolled her eyes again at the formal use of her name, he only did that when he was seriously trying to get a rise out of her.

"Good day, Professor Snape." And she was in the hall, her breaths finally evening out as she walked closer and closer to her own quarters, completely unable to rid her nose of his smell. Immediately, as she crossed the threshold into her quarters, Hermione let out a loud scream, frustration leaking from her every pore; how could she have fallen for Severus Snape?

When he entered his quarters, he immediately smiled, a devilish and delightful smile. Hermione Granger seemed to be in a snit over him and for one momentous second it did not scare him as much as would as soon as the cold reality of actually getting to be more than a friend to Hermione would. He thought about how much she'd changed, the realization that she was no longer an annoying student in his classes; she was a glorious young woman who chewed the end of her quills, who had a heart he could not fathom which knew depths he hadn't known in his entire life, and suddenly, the thought of getting to woo her, to kiss her, to hold her made his heart race.

As he got ready for bed, washing and shaving his face, he nicked his chin and suddenly, he couldn't breath, he fell hard against the cabinet and knew he needed to get to Hermione, but the pain in his leg and blood trickling from his chin paralyzed him for a time.

((((()))))

An hour later, after she'd showered and changed for bed, she heard a loud knocking at her door and pulled on her dressing gown before answering the door, tying it loosely around her waist as she turned the ornate knob beneath her cold and tired hand.

"Severus?" His face was pale, his hand shaking, he looked as though he might faint at any moment. It didn't happen often, but Hermione knew immediately that he'd either had a flashback or dream that had shaken him so much he couldn't calm himself. Walking swiftly passed her towards her fireplace, she watched him pace back and forth, almost lost in his thoughts; she wondered what would be her best course of action. Sometimes inquiring forced him into a position he didn't enjoy; sometimes touching him helped, taking his hand or sitting next to him, their arms or legs touching, but most of the time he didn't want to be touched, as though it burned his skin. Trying to determine which course of action to take in the seconds she watched him gave her no clues, so she was thankful when he reached for her hand. His immunity to calming droughts made these moments far more difficult.

Severus paced by the fire, his mind racing matching his equally erratic heart as he walked, trying to breath, trying not to pass out or scream. One hand ran through his hair as he finally noticed her standing at his side, watching him as he moved, and though he wanted to focus only on her, he kept feeling Nagini's fangs at his throat, Voldemort's crucio coursing through his body, and finally the eternal darkness of death. He felt her hand in his, pulling him from the darkness.

"Take a deep breath and sit with me." Hermione responded, but found he wouldn't budge, he simply held her left hand in his and closed his eyes, taking quick, almost asthmatic sounding breaths as he faced towards the fire. "Severus, slow down, breath with me." Hermione reached for his other hand, coming between him and the fire, pulling him closer to her, finally understanding that he was having a panic attack; it had been over a year since he'd had one and she felt out of practice. Digging deeply in her memory, she tried to recall what she'd done the first time she'd witnessed him having a panic attack. It was during a quidditch match, Slytherins v. Hufflepuff, she wasn't even sure what had compelled her to attend, but she had and when the match ended, Severus had stayed in the stands, looking pale, well paler than usual, and she could see he was visibly sweating, his hands shaking, his eyes shut so tightly. Although she'd had some experience with post traumatic stress, she hadn't thought Severus was being affected because he had always seemed so well put together, in control of all aspects of his life; but, watching him in the stands, she knew she had to help him in a way that wouldn't embarrass him. She remembered blowing lightly on his face, trying to cool his skin and then putting her hands in his, helping him unclinch, slowly bringing his breathing to a normal rate, and then as his skin seemed to cool, his heart to slow down, she went behind him, wrapping herself around him as she'd seen Ginny do with Harry before, breathing in a standard pace, smoothing his hair from his face and making sure he felt secure. Looking at him now, Hermione could see he needed the same thing, so she led him to the couch, her hands still in his, rubbing his palms as she moved him and gently persuading him to sit down, coming to sit behind him, his arms over her legs and her arms around his neck.

"Breath with me, Severus, slowly, calmly, in and out." Blowing gently on his skin, Hermione kept one arm around his neck, her ankles clasped around his waist and nudged his chin up, opening his airway more, and then pushing his hair behind his ears. "That's it, breath with me." She could feel him struggling against her, trying to breath slowly through his pulse was still racing. It took a further five minutes before he could breath normally, before his eyes opened and she saw a wild man, one she hadn't seen in a very long time. His eyes reminded her of moments in his classroom, when Neville had almost blown up a cauldron or Harry had said something sarcastic; those eyes worried her more than his breathing or sweaty skin.

"Are you ready to talk?" She asked with trepidation, afraid to push him too far.

"No, not yet, can you just…" She felt his arms shift beneath her, pulling her around him, forcing her to the floor next to him, practically straddling him and for the first time in their entire acquaintance, Hermione was unsure of herself and felt the feelings she'd tried to hide earlier bubbling up in her. Shuddering against her, Hermione could feel him easing, his breathing at a normal rate as he pulled her tight against his body, his legs extended out as she sat on his thighs, her legs wrapped around him in the same locking action as her arms, his face rested against her neck, his breath tickled the collar of her shirt and made her think dangerous things. When she'd helped him before, he'd never held her quite like this and it wouldn't even occurred to her how sexual it was until that day. It was almost too much watching him suffer and finding herself discombobulated, unable to disassociate herself from her increasingly painful attraction to him and her desire to comfort him as a friend.

Finally, he felt his brain kick in, the weight of her body against his, the feel of her soft breasts pressed against him, her legs wrapped around him as though she actually wanted him and it took all his willpower to stop the adrenaline from continuing to pump, to turn to arousal.

"And _**you**_ asked me if I was your friend." He whispered against her, one of his hands moving to her hair, taking a curl or two and wrapping it around his index finger. "As though I would let anyone else see me this way." She was the only one who understood, who didn't judge him or pity him, who looked upon his scars as though they were simply his skin and not some anomaly deserving sympathy or empathy. He welcomed empathy if it was genuine, but some offered their empathy attached to a multitude of questions he simply never wanted to answer.

"You let Madame Pomfrey see you this way, do you not consider her your friend?" He pulled away slightly, but Hermione didn't want to leave his lap, she rather liked the feel of his body taut and smooth beneath her.

"I had no choice to allow Poppy to see me like this before you became my colleague and now I would prefer she not, she doesn't have the same bedside manner you do." She could feel her smile and pulled him back into the position he'd been in only a moment before.

"Sometimes I need this as much as you do." Hermione had never admitted that to him before, that she longed for touch and the assurance that someone else would hold her if she needed comforting. She felt him shift, bringing his legs into a crossed position almost dropping her in the process so that they were very nearly face to face.

"You've never said anything." His tone conveyed a mild hurt, as though perhaps hadn't trusted him enough to allow him to comfort her, and it saddened him. She'd been comforting him for years and had he known she was in need of the same comfort, though sometimes it went against his general nature, he would've tried.

"I don't want to be selfish when you clearly need my help as I don't get panic attacks like you do, but after a nightmare, it would be...I don't know...nice I guess to have this." She felt herself treading dangerous territory, admitting that she'd like him in her room, in her bed, available for intimate companionship, at least she felt like she was saying that vaguely, implying her intentions.

"All you need do is ask, I've rarely told you no, stubborn girl." He didn't want to imagine her weeping, alone in her room, wanting to reach for him and finding only the emptiness of her chambers.

"I'm hardly a girl, _**Professor**_." He haughty tone almost garnered a grin from him, but she could tell he was well past his comfort zone of touching, so she released him and moved backwards, not standing but sitting across from him cross-legged and eager.

"Perhaps, but you are not a decrepit old man, either. Forgive me for implying that you are somehow less because I called you a girl, but you are incredibly stubborn." Their almost twenty year age difference only bothered him when he remembered it, most of the time they seemed contemporaries, able to converse and enjoy much of the same things.

"Says the man who refuses to have his clothes laundered by the elves because they put creases in your trousers." She teased, trying to lighten the mood once more and help him find further relief. He'd relaxed visibly, unfolding his legs and extending one past hers, fiddling with his right kneecap as though it was sore.

"Have you hurt yourself?" Reaching over to his pant leg, Hermione pulled it up without even considering his comfort level and saw that his knee was rather swollen and purple. "Severus, what did you do?" Hermione immediately cast some wordless and wandless spells, helping the swelling go down and then the bruising to fade slightly before pulling the pant leg down and making eye contact with him and seeing an expression she'd never seen before. He could only marvel at her brilliance, how easily she responded to his pains.

"What happened, Severus, please tell me." She refused to move her hand from his leg, new feelings or not she still wanted him to feel comfort.

"I cut myself shaving, for some reason the blood droplets triggered something and I lost my legs beneath me, hit my knee on the cupboard as I fell and then I couldn't catch my breath." Finally releasing his leg, Hermione folded her hands like her legs and sighed, it was amazing how something so small could create such a catastrophic response.

"It's been over a year, I guess that's a good thing?" But he ignored her words and stared at the door, obviously ready to flee, he could feel himself shutting down even though he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to take her hair in his hands again.

"I've interrupted your evening, I apologize." His hair fell across his face again and she could see him clearly shutting her out as he normally did, embarrassed because he was so vulnerable, even if he trusted her more than anyone else on staff. And even though he trusted her implicitly, he never revealed the darkest of his visions, the things which made even his skin crawl.

"Don't apologize, it was just me and my books, as usual. Besides, you know I'd make time for you, even if I was knee deep in research." He finally looked up again, patting her knee and standing, his adrenaline finally calming. The obvious shift in his behavior made her worry he wasn't truly fine from the event, that perhaps she might have pushed him too far or tried too hard to calm him.

"You don't have to leave." Her voice was meek but inviting as she went to her kitchenette and started water for tea, taking her tea decanter from the cabinet and finding his favorite biscuits, the kind with caramel and chocolate drizzle, and made them a plate. Having tea twice in one day wasn't completely unprecedented, but it certainly wasn't the norm and she felt rather lucky that he was still in her quarters and hadn't fled as he typically did after such an event. Perhaps the year that had passed had made him more agreeable.

"You shouldn't have gone to any trouble." He mused as she set the tray the down and poured his tea.

"I didn't and I don't have sugar, so it'll be lemon or milk." Smelling the tea before adding lemon or milk to his cup, she noticed his hand was still shaking slightly as he poured some of the milk into his glass and then brought it to his lips, watching her with his eyes finally clear and readable again.

"Now that I've expressed my misgivings for the day, do you want to share yours?" Severus asked, peering over his tea cup again and watching her twitch in immediate displeasure.

"It is unimportant, just a passing annoyance, mostly to do with my workload this semester and some concerns I have about the headmistress."

"Concerns? Doubting her abilities, are we." She was glad to hear the laughter in his voice and thankful he was accepting her answer, which wasn't entirely untrue. They continued in happy conversation for a further thirty minutes before the tea was exhausted and she was as well, her eyes barely able to stay open as she took the tray back to her kitchenette and rinse her tea kettle, yawning a few times before finding Severus came to stand in the doorway, watching her clean the last of the cups and then placing them on her drying mat, a bright red thing he'd made fun of several times before realizing how clever she'd been making it. For a moment he contemplated stopping her and thanking her properly, she'd always been so accommodating to him when he'd been ill or following an episode, but he didn't take another step, to pull her close again like he had earlier and drink in her closeness.

"Do I amuse you, sir?"

"Invariably." He purred, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame, if she had looked over to him at that moment, she would've seen he was just as much desirous of a different relationship with her as she was, but she didn't look over to him afraid he would see how eager she was to have him close.

"I'm afraid I've taken too much of your time today and I must adjourn." He bowed slightly to her as she followed him from the room, sighing as he walked away and knowing there was no legitimate reason for him to stay.

"Floo if you need me later, I'm sure I won't sleep well tonight." She replied, taking a quick step back as he turned to face her, his face a mixture of agony and questions. "Not to do with you, erm...this evening."

"Your earlier irritation?" Technically, she had lied, it was about him, it was him she would spend her evening thinking of. She nodded and walked to the door, wishing it was one of the evenings they stayed up and talked, fell asleep in her or his sitting area or even bed, just to have him near for longer than tea.

"Goodnight, decrepit old man." He scowled and squinted his eyes at her, then turned through the door, wishing he didn't have to leave such a lovely young woman.

"Insufferable girl, go to sleep." And he was gone, though his scent lingered on her skin as she finally prepared for bed, removing her dressing gown and crawling under her sheets, thinking of her arms around him and his around her, how well they fit together, and how much she'd wanted to move her lips against his. Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about him, how much he'd suffered during his life, and how little evidence there was that he had ever been truly loved. Although he had dated a few people since they'd been friends, she didn't think he was ever serious about any of them, simply distractions from his life at Hogwarts. In her seven years, she'd only dated two fellows from Hogsmeade and one of Harry's friends at the Ministry, nothing panning out. She was well aware she intimidated most men, because she was clear and direct about her wants, needs, and desires, and before long they were usually gone. If it wasn't her brain, it was her friends, even those who knew her friends became enamored with them over her and she knew it wouldn't last. Her last thought before she closed her eyes was that perhaps she should take up Ginny on setting her up again, then she wouldn't have to think about Severus and the improbability that he would ever feel the same as she did.

When Severus finally walked through the door of his quarters, he immediately went to his washroom, cleansing the area of the blood and then washing his face. He could still feel the weight of her body around his, the electricity of her fingertips against his face, and his resolve was almost gone. He'd wanted her for years, to have her in every way. 'Would you consider yourself my friend? What an inane question', he thought again as he changed into his pajama bottoms. Of course they were friends, she was his best friend, but since she'd walked through the gates seven years prior, he'd wanted to be more than her friend. Something about the six years following the battle had changed her, matured her looks and mind, and he found himself so attracted to her he could barely contain himself. All the years of pretending to have no feelings had finally caught up with him and he refused to deny himself at least her friendship, even if it had taken two years to be close to her and not want to kiss her every moment. And the times she stayed with him, in his room, in his bed had almost broken his resolve. He knew she didn't see him that way, but earlier that day, when she'd acted so oddly around him, he dared to hope, setting into motion a cataclysm of emotion leading to the worst panic attack he'd had in years. Severus turned out the lights and decided to set a deadline, if Hermione wouldn't admit her feelings, he would before the school year was done. Although he was desperate not to ruin their friendship, he felt he was taking advantage of her kind heart and couldn't fathom hurting her, even if inadvertently.

(((((())))))

A month later on a Sunday, Hermione found herself getting ready to walk to Hogsmeade to meet the man Ginny and Harry had been trying to set her up with for weeks. Changing into her muggle clothes, she pulled her jumper over her hair, tied a neat knot in her scarf and grabbed her beaded bag before walking from her quarters to the gates and then to Hogsmeade. Although most students were in their common rooms, she passed a few on their way to tutoring or detention, then exited the castle doors and walked through the melting snow to Hogsmeade. All Ginny had told her about David Avery was her age, thirty-two, but had grown up in America and attended Ilvemorny, worked with Harry in the auror office, had never been married, and had blonde hair and was tall. As she walked to the apparition point, she concentrated on The Three Broomsticks and appeared directly next to the door, walking through and finding a tall blonde sitting near the hearth, immediately smiling as she approached. They had easy conversation, drank mulled mead, and even laughed about Harry a few times before Hermione realized how much she missed Severus and how silly she felt for liking him when he couldn't possibly return her affections.

After dinner, David walked her to the gates as she was afraid to apparate with even a hint of alcohol in her system. Reaching for his arm, she thanked him for dinner and promised to owl, desperate to give him a chance even though her feelings for Severus hadn't waned in the slightest. Once David apparated away, she trudged through the sloshy snow and went to her rooms, tired and contemplative, wishing she had the courage to tell Severus how she really felt or to forget her feelings entirely and try to find something with David if she could. Summoning her papers from her office, Hermione sat at her desk and graded papers for while before turning in, the jittery feeling in her stomach making her feel sick instead of excited.

Severus stalked the halls that night, desperate to find students out of bed, to take his annoyance out on them. When he'd asked Hermione what she had planned for the weekend, he hadn't prepared himself that she would be set up by the blasted Potters again, and he certainly hadn't wanted to see her returning from the date, cheeks kissed by the chilly air and hair a mess. Although he'd wanted to march to her rooms, to inquire as a friend how it had gone, he didn't. Instead, he took his frustrations out on the castle walls, on the students he found canoodling in the astronomy tower, and then went to his quarters, finding no sleep once he finally rolled into bed. He only had himself to blame, he knew, but it still stung to see her made happy by another man. Suddenly, his plan to tell her how he felt was folly, what did it matter if she was seeing another man? Then he thought he was being irrational, one date did not constitute a relationship.

At breakfast the next morning, between Pomona Sprout and Aurora Sinistra, Hermione chanced a glance at Severus who was across from them, sitting next to Hagrid and Vector, looking as sleepy as she was. For a moment their eyes met, but he looked away before she could tell if he was angry or annoyed, his typical feelings when sitting between two morning talkers. After finishing her toast, Hermione walked to her first class, third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, trying not to think about her date with David Avery or her curious relationship with Severus Snape, wondering if there was a possible arithmancy calculation that would show her if telling Severus was worth the risk, but as the students filtered in, she stopped her thoughts and focused on her lesson, showing the students some calculations on the next quidditch match, hoping that the topic at least interested them more than their usual fare, finding them all enraptured for once. Her good luck continued through her second lesson and by lunch, she was positively giddy, finding Severus alone at the high table when she sat down to eat.

"My students actually liked my lesson today." She giggled, taking some potatoes from the bowl and putting them on her plate, pouring them both some pumpkin juice before she noticed he was still sullen.

"Lovely." Severus could barely manage his emotions as she heaved in happiness next to him, so he steeled his expression, ate his food and tried not to look at her.

"You're in a mood." She remarked, almost a question, and then dropped it as Bathsheda Babbling joined them, launching into a terribly long story about some dig on the Isle of Skye, taking Hermione's full attention and leaving Severus to his quiet rumination. Hermione might not have noticed that he'd left lunch at all had she not gone to fill his pumpkin juice as he normally did only to find him absent and his goblet gone. Frowning for a moment, she watched him walk through the large wooden doors, wondering why he was being particularly cross, but then reminded herself that he was often cross after an episode, even if it had been over a month.

Practically running back to his labs, Severus refused to stop, for a moment and lose his mind. Something about her comforting him the week before, about her body so close to his, and then her date had unraveled him. Using his wand, he warded the door behind him and tried not to think about her, the way she thought of him without effort or the tone of her voice as she talked about anything she enjoyed, her effortless joy and optimism, something he would never have. Folding his arms and across his chest, he sat squarely on the edge of his desk, perhaps he shouldn't wait. She'd already been on a date with whomever the Potters had set her up with and even though ultimately he wanted her to be happy, he wanted her to be happy with him more. When he felt students pushing his wards, he released them and watched them struggle in like the lemmings they were, set them straight to work and began his own machinations of wooing Hermione. He'd never been romantic, he'd never had a reason to think of another person in such a way or at least to hope they returned his affections. Sure he'd dated many women but he'd never loved one quite like Hermione, his love for Lily Evans all those years ago had started as puppy love, the love of adolescence and when things had fallen apart between them, it had turned to devotion and protection, no one had breached his heart since, until Hermione had come to Hogwarts. Sighing as he watched his students struggling to brew a basic potion, he thought to her likes and dislikes. He knew she loved chocolate biscuits and darjeeling tea, she loved the texture of fleece but hated wool, and whenever she could, she prefered handwritten letters to using a dictoquill or even her charmed muggle phone she used to talk to her parents on the grounds beyond the castle. He knew she loved to watch old movies and that when she thought no one was listening, she loved to sing, she hummed incessantly as it was, but he rather liked her voice. He thought briefly about the short trip they'd taken to Glencoe with the students to discover the meanings of Ancient Runes carved into the Three Sisters, and that she'd brought her favorite chocolate, some Belgian creation of orange essence and raspberries in a rich dark chocolate. And her favorite flowers were hydrangeas, ones she'd seen in Terceira, Azores when her parents had renewed their wedding vows. Silently, he made a list of things to do for her, to show her he was interested in his way, because seemed to fail him when it was most pressing.

That Friday, Hermione received two hydrangeas on her desk before class started, looking around the room she wondered if a child was trying to play a prank on her or if perhaps there was a note or something indicating who they were from. Taking in the soft aroma of the hydrangeas, she immediately cast a spell to keep them hydrated and took them to her office, smiling at their sweet blue color, the color of the dress she'd worn to the Yule Ball her fourth year, her favorite color.

When it was time for tea, Hermione walked to Severus' quarters and knocked her normal three times, finding him slow to open the door. She heard his boot shuffle against the floor, making her think of his odd behavior all week. Finally, he opened the door, looking as Severus as Severus could.

"Did you have other plans?" She asked, taking her favorite leather chair and folding her legs under self, knocking her flats off, and breathing deeply the aroma of the darjeeling. "You're going to spoil me, Severus." Eyeing her favorite chocolate biscuits, the kind her mother bought at Marks and Spencers for special occasions, Hermione swiped two and waited for him to pour. When they were in his quarters, he always prefered to serve her.

"Darjeeling and some biscuits? You're rather easy to spoil." She couldn't contain her laugh, his grin was positively amusing and she longed to see it more often; it felt like they hadn't seen each other all week. They sat in companionable silence for a while, before Severus began talking about the Ministry task force regarding curriculum, allowing them both to vent, though it made Hermione think of her date with David for a moment, she realized how much easier it was for her to talk to Severus, to be herself around him and she didn't want to go through all the time and effort it took to let someone else know her so well. She thought about Christmas, it was a few weeks away, and whether he'd stay at the castle or actually join her at Grimmauld Place that year.

"Harry's invited you to join us at Grimmauld Place for Christmas if you'd like. I'm leaving on Christmas Eve as usual if you wanted to go together." She proffered, eyeing him as she did in curiosity.

"Perhaps, I have no plans as of yet." He'd only come once in the seven years they'd worked together and only one time before that, but she was hopeful.

"You won't get your present until I return then, if I cannot convince you and it's rather glorious this year." With all her resolve, she planned to tell him how she felt, to give him more than friendship, and of course his usual single malt Ogden's Firewhiskey and another rare potions books she'd found with the aid of the Malfoys who were always willing to do something pleasant for Severus.

"Well then, I suppose I have no choice." Meeting her eye, her sparkling amber orbs, Severus found that there was no reason to stay home at Christmas if the thought of his attendance made her smile in such a way. Hermione continued to smile at him while he stirred his tea, a splash of lemon added at precisely ten stirs as per usual. Looking down, she noticed a stray petal from the hydrangea and her smile grew, hoping it was Severus who had given her flowers, though she thought it unlikely.

"So are you to see your young gentleman again?" Smile gone, Hermione looked to him, brows furrowed, had she told him about David?

"My young gentleman?"

"The Potters wrote me as well, asking me to keep my eye on you with this young man because he was nice but they know how prickly you are." Even though she tried to hide her frown, she could tell it wasn't working. She should've told him about the date, he was her closest friend at Hogwarts after all and they rarely kept anything from each other.

"David? He's not my 'young gentleman'. Ginny and Harry are always trying to set me up and they've only succeeded a few times, which were utter disappointments."

"And was he?" He seemed almost jealous, could he actually care about her as more than a friend?

"He was nice, funny actually, but terribly American. I find that he's…" Hermione couldn't put it into words, she wanted to say 'not you', but she wasn't quite ready to say those words, so she sipped her tea and sighed. "He's a bit young."

"They said he was your age." He retorted, enjoying the show of her wiggling, uncomfortable talking about another man.

"Yes, well, we know how well someone my age had worked out for me." He couldn't help but agree, thinking back to the only time he'd gone to Grimmauld Place for Christmas when she'd still worked at the Ministry, she and Ron who had been dating for about a year fought the entire time.

"Are you going to see him again?"

"Most likely no, and certainly not before Christmas." And he dropped the conversation about David Avery, shifting instead to talk of James and Lily Potter, Harry and Ginny's children. He'd been giving James, whom most called Jamie, lessons to prep him in potions for the last year before he started Hogwarts in the Autumn. They sat together for several more hours, their Friday routine in tact, no awkwardness followed the conversation about Hermione's date, and when she fell asleep on his sofa long after dinner was served in the Great Hall, he helped her to his bed, and covered her up with his flannel blanket, daring to graze her cheek with the faintest touch of his fingertips, and then transfiguring his sofa to be a bit longer and softer, covering himself and falling asleep, dreaming of the day when he could join her again in his bed, to hold her without withstraint, to finally kiss the lips he'd watched say some of the most idiotic and lovely things.

((SSHG))

Students left the following day and Hermione found a small present on her desk as she walked down from her office, surveying the now quiet, empty classroom free of student conversations, drawings or papers. Opening the package, she found tissue paper and then softly placed between the flimsy paper was a charm bracelet. Upon further inspection, she realized the charms were all representative of the Azore Islands; a cow,a rooster, a hydrangea blossom, grapes, a volcano, and a goat. It made her giggle thinking of all the cows she'd seen when she was visiting her parents in Terceira and lovely the island had been, how much she wanted to go back someday. Rummaging around in the box for a note, she found only more tissue paper and nothing else. It was the second surprise she'd received anonymously and she wondered who would be giving her the gifts. Her parents would've sent it through traditional means and even though they'd met Severus and some of the other professors, they wouldn't have sent gifts through him either way, so then her mind turned to Harry and Ginny who knew she'd been rather lonely for a time, but even they weren't clever enough to leave gifts anonymously nor put so much thought into it; it definitely wasn't Ron and Lavender, who were too focused on their twin sons to worry about her happiness. That left Severus being her gift giver and if it was him, he was certainly going to a level Hermione did not expect nor anticipate from him, and then she wondered why he would bother, unless he truly did care for her the way she cared for him. They'd exchanged Christmas presents for years and though he always found her something useful or related to teaching Arithmancy, he'd never bought her jewelry nor given her flowers. Before taking the box and bracelet to her quarters, she stopped at her classroom door and closed her eyes, wishing it was him with all her heart before clasping it easily around her wrist and walking through the halls to pack for Grimmauld Place.

Hours later, they walked into Grimmauld Place together, Hermione hugging her sweet niece and nephew who took their coats and then presents to the gift table, Jamie eventually ran their overnight bags up the many stairs to guest rooms. Harry liked to play a 'White Elephant' game wherein they drew lots, the first person getting a gift and then the subsequent ones able to take that gift or a new one. It was always fun, though Hermione wondered if Severus had ever played it before. Glancing around the room, she couldn't help but smile. Aside from the children, everyone in the room had survived a terrible event, years of fear and worry, and they were all able to move on, to build happy lives, even Severus. Walking over to Ron and Lavender, Hermione took one of the twins, she assumed Phillip because of the P on his tiny Weasley sweater and held him perched on her hip, laughing with him as he giggled at his brother and father, both making gurgling noises.

"Giles, does Phillip make you laugh?" Hermione blew a raspberry on Phillip's neck, feeling his tiny eight month old body shake with laughter, his red curls tickling her neck as he shyly curled himself into her hair. So enraptured with the sweet boys, she didn't notice that Severus was watching her intensely, he hadn't seen her with the boys before, they weren't friends when the Potter children had been small and neither Severus not Hermione had been to Grimmauld Place together since the twins were born. He studied her, the way the line between her eyes wrinkled with happiness Phillip's fingers curled into her hair, and he thought for a moment, maybe she would be happy to have children. Did he want children? He knew without a doubt he wanted her and for the first time in his life, he considered that if she wanted children, he'd have one with her, just to see her as light and free as she seemed holding Phillip Weasley, which meant he'd marry her, and that thought didn't scare him at all.

"How on Earth did you convince Severus to join us?" Harry asked, taking Hermione's elbow and leading her to the Dining Room as she bounced Phillip and scanned the room for eager listeners.

"I told him he wouldn't get his present unless he did, but I think there might be something else." She said, hopefully, taking one more sweep of the room, making sure he hadn't followed them.

"You're blushing, it must be good."

"I'm not blushing, it's warm, besides...anyway, I think he might fancy me." Harry's glasses slipped from his nose as his eyes flashed large, understanding her crimson cheeks perfectly.

"And from your expression, I take it you fancy him as well." Hermione didn't want to hide her feelings from Harry, so she nodded and shifted Phillip to other hip, waiting for some possible yelling or at least badly timed advice about their former professor, but instead Harry's eyes returned to normal size as he took Phillip from her.

"You know, that makes sense, actually. He seemed awfully jealous when he Ginny told him about Auror Avery."

"You don't think it's weird, I mean it's all conjecture now because I haven't actually told him I fancy him, too. I was worried he'd think I was silly, we've been such good friends these last five years and I'd hate to lose him at school. I'd lose my mind." They both looked to the entryway of the dining room as Ginny came through, holding Giles and humming against his cheek, smiling at them as she passed.

"It would be weird to me if you weren't already so well acquainted and we know him now, it's not like when we were in school." Hermione's eyes brightened as she saw him turn the corner, eventually joining them at the table as they ate Christmas Eve dinner, their eyes meeting frequently as they sat across, but diagonally from each other. Her mind flitted between memories of Christmases past, when she'd left him in his chambers, sullen and annoyed at being asked for a fifth time if he'd join them. Had she fancied him then and just not known it? Making the perfect bite of stuffing, cranberry sauce, and turkey, Hermione contemplated if it had really only been a few months that she'd fancied Severus or if it had been far longer. When she thought back to the first few times they'd had tea together, when she'd practically thrown herself in his office to talk about potions research connected to a paper she was trying to publish, finally wheedling him down after watching him for months, learning his tea preferences and how to read his body language. He'd changed so much since the war, but she knew a caustic, private man still existed under all the tight layers of black. Had she fancied him all the way back then; when her heart was tender from her first serious relationship after Ron had also ended badly, with another man implying that she was too judgmental, obsessive about work, and just generally unpleasant. She remembered almost crying the first tea Friday when Severus had commended her work, her dedication. Perhaps it had been more than friendship for her all this time, she just hadn't seen it from that perspective until her jealousy made her. Looking across the table at him, she studied the curve of his hand as he scooped cranberry sauce onto his spoon, hands she'd watched for six years as his student, competent hands that had healed her many times when she'd burned or cut herself being clumsy. For a moment, their eyes met and she offered him a subtle smile, thankful he was there even if he looked marginally uncomfortable surrounded by former students and some colleagues; she was shocked when he returned her smile, his lip curling upwards at the edges which often meant he was annoyed, but she could see in his eyes that he meant no malice.

"Who gave you this lovely bracelet? Is that a chicken?" Luna reached for her left arm, turning the bracelet over several times to see all the charms.

"I actually don't know who gave it to me, it was on my desk the other day, but I absolutely adore it. This is a rooster, sort of the symbol for the Azore Islands and Portugal, like an unofficial mascot I assume. The legend is from the 15th century, a man was falsely accused of crimes and he told the magistrate that when they hanged him, a rooster which had already been cooked for the magistrate's dinner, would crow and prove he was innocent. So the magistrate refused to eat the rooster and when the man went to the gallows days later, the rooster stood and crowed at the magistrates table, proving they'd falsely accused the man and he was set free." Hermione spoke, turning the bracelet in her hand again, keeping her eyes on Severus as she told Luna about the legend of the Barcelos Rooster, thinking that he was redeemed just as the man in the legend was.

"There wasn't a note?" Rolf, Luna's husband, leaned around Luna to ask.

"No, and I received two hydrangeas as well, apparently I have a secret admirer." At this point the chattering at the table had slowed and they were all turned towards her, but she had eyes only for Severus who looked rather pleased with himself as he watched her interaction with the Scamanders over his wine goblet. By the way she was looking at him, Severus surmised that she'd figured it out, but hadn't quite worked up the nerve to say something to him, though she was certainly being bold at the table as everyone finished their Christmas Eve dinner.

"Well whomever it is must know you pretty well, I didn't even know you liked hydrangeas and we've been friends for over twenty years." Harry remarked, elbowing Ginny in the side as he spoke, obviously he'd told her what they'd discussed in the dining room. Everyone then returned to their conversation, catching up about their jobs or children, sequestered to their own table being monitored by Jamie and Lily, mirror images of their parents. With two sets of twins in the room, the Scamander boys and Ron and Lavender's boys, most assumed there would be some sort of trouble, but things had gone rather smoothly for a gathering of so many people. When dinner was finished and everyone ready for the game, Jamie and Lily took the children upstairs to the entertain them. Harry spent a few minutes going over the rules for White Elephant again before bringing the table with all the gifts closer to the crowd, then passing around a hat with numbers.

"Once a gift has been exchanged three times, it belongs to the last person." They called the first number and Severus watched as Luna went to the table, took a gift and opened it. It had been elaborately wrapped, but once opened revealed to be a muggle shave kit. He understood, then, why Hermione had brought a silly gift for the exchange, and why she'd prompted him to make a hangover potion. Later, when Hermione, who'd drawn the last number, had to choose between the open gifts and the one unopened, she looked at the available options; a set of theatre tickets, a travel case with so many compartments she couldn't even fathom the number, a massive bag of assorted candy from Honeydukes, a gift certificate to a massage place which had just opened in Diagon Alley, and the unwrapped present, the one she'd brought which was a knitted sweater with charms to wick moisture away, heat or cool based on need, shrink or stretch as well as change color to match whatever the outfit needed. Without pause she walked over to George and took the theatre tickets, she wanted to ask Severus on a proper date. The game ended when George decided, though he wanted to take the massive bag of sweets from Lavender, to take Hermione's present from the table.

After hot cocoa and the kids coming down to say goodnight, the adults made their way up the stairs to the myriad of guest rooms completely cleared after thirteen years of habitation. Stopping at her door, the room she always used when she stayed with Harry and Ginny due to its convenient en suite washroom, Hermione said goodnight to everyone and turned the knob beneath her hand. She'd hoped to catch Severus before he'd gone into his rooms, to see if he'd enjoyed the game and his present of firewhiskey and new snifters, which were rather ornate with dragons, a gift from Hagrid appropriately, but he was already tucked neatly in his room when she finally made it to hers, so she banked on the morning before going down to breakfast that they'd exchange gifts. After brushing her hair and teeth, Hermione changed into her flannel pajamas, the upper floors of Grimmauld Place as cold as the dungeons in winter. After reading for an hour, she heard a light rapping at her door and after throwing the covers off, she stoked the fire with her wand and went to the door, her arms folded across her chest as she was not wearing her bra and felt the chill hit her as she left the covers.

((()))

"Severus? Is something wrong?" When she'd opened the door, she found him looking quite nervous and twitchy, almost like he was staving off another panic attack.

"No, I just wanted to tell you goodnight properly, and give you this." Nervously, he thrust the box towards her, knowing that once she opened it his feelings for her would be quite clear, and he hoped that he hadn't misjudged her affections. Running a hand through his hair, he stepped into her room, closing the door behind him and watching as she went to the bag on the dresser and retrieved his presents, the Ogden's and first edition of _Moste Potente Potions_ , the one he'd been searching for for ages, with notes and advice from two separate Potions Masters Severus greatly admired. There was no where to sit in the room aside from the bed, which wouldn't normally have been an issue for her, but suddenly she worried that she had misread him, that he didn't fancy her and that her gifts hadn't been from him...that was until she opened the box and found her gifts on a bed of hydrangea petals, the same blue she'd received in her office. Immediately, she beamed towards him, her heart fluttering as he took a seat next to her on the bed, their legs crossed towards each other, their knees almost touching. Taking the first small box, Hermione unwrapped her favorite chocolates and immediately took a square, watching as Severus opened the Ogden's.

"If I had known you were going to win a jug, I would've gotten you something else but this is a better year." Hermione teased, tentatively playing with the bow she'd made on the jug and finally meeting his gaze.

"You can never have too much firewhiskey, well...maybe **you** can." They both laughed, thinking of her behavior the last time they'd imbibed firewhiskey together, when she'd tried to trim her hair because it kept tickling her face and set it on fire, singing the better part of the left side before Severus had realized what she'd done.

"The worst haircut I've ever had."

"The worst? I can think of one other." Pretending to be annoyed with him, she knew he was speaking of her last haircut which had resulted in terrible layers and chunky highlights like it was still the 1990s.

"Open the other one and there's a card, too." Reaching to his box, Hermione fingered the card to make sure he saw it, her letter to him, desperately explaining how important he was to her, even if it made him uncomfortable or made their friendship awkward, she wanted him to know that in their five years as close friends, he'd become an integral facet of her life and that she didn't want to lose him, but also that her feelings had changed, that she wanted to be more than his friend. Turning back to her present, Hermione opened the next of three, a small box, a necklace to match her bracelet, further cementing that Severus had given her the charm bracelet. The necklace had a charm on it in the shape of the island and the word, Terceira, on it. Even though she tried not to get emotional, realizing that Severus felt something more than friendship for her was almost too much after such a lovely evening. It was made far more intense because he was sitting mere inches from her, his scent filling her nostrils, his eyes flickering to hers every so often. The air felt electric and burst as he opened his potions book, stunned into silence.

"Lucius and Draco helped me find that, in Bulgaria of all places. Is it the one you wanted?" Severus thumbed through the book, seeing the handwriting of his Master Potioneer, Donovan Churchill, and then the handwriting of Phineas Borne himself, the author. He knew she'd spent a fortune on the book and wanted to thank her, but found that the words wouldn't form in his mouth, so he simply nodded, and placed it back in the box, hoping she was enjoying her presents as much as he was. He turned her card over and over in his hands, finally unsealing the wax and taking the card, written in her spiky handwriting with it's embellishments and curves and began to read. Every word felt like her heart was speaking directly to his, as though a wireless connection existed between them, and though he tried not to show his emotions on his face, he found his eyebrows and mouth betraying him. When he finally reached the end, wherein Hermione declared that she loved him, that she would love him forever, even if he couldn't return her affections, he didn't quite know how to tell her he'd loved her far longer, that he had taken advantage of their friendship for comfort at first and then once he'd realized just how important she was, had promised never to cross that line with her if it meant hurting her. Closing his eyes, he imagined her writing the letter, her hand cramped from the multiple copies she'd most likely started and torn up, her bottom lip tucked tautly between her teeth, her face most likely mere inches from the page and then, the flourish of her name, her sweet fingers folding the parchment and tucking it neatly in the envelope. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw he staring at him, a mix of emotions on her face, eager and vulnerable; he'd merely hoped she fancied him, he had no idea she loved him.

"Severus?" When he hadn't said anything, her mind began racing, perhaps telling him she loved him was too much, perhaps she should've told him simply that she fancied him and let the 'L' word lie until they had been together for a while. "Have I upset you?" She asked, putting the presents he'd given her down and placing her hand on his.

"Far from it." He barely formed the words, looking at her pleading eyes, he knew he needed to comfort her mind.

"Should I have left it alone? I wasn't sure until earlier that you'd given me the flowers and this," she motioned to her bracelet, "perhaps I…"

"You should never temper your words for me, even though I have wished it in the past, I welcome your admission, I was planning on telling you the same, though perhaps not quite as elegantly as you have." Shyly, she dropped her face and looked over to the fire, enjoying the feeling of his fingers lacing into hers.

"I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but I couldn't continue to care for you as more than a friend and not admit it...I'm not so good at hiding how I feel." He gave her a smirk. "I know, I know, everyone knows I wear my emotions on my face. But, when you come to me, when you really need me, I didn't want you to stop if you didn't return my affections, even if it doesn't happen often now. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable since you don't wear your emotions on sleeve like I do." She felt his finger and thumb graze her chin, turning her face back to his, and for the first time in their mutual acquaintance, he looked as marvellously happy and nervous as she did, his eyes pleading with hers for understanding that words might not be able to convey.

"Even if I didn't return your affections, I wouldn't have let this ruin our friendship and I wouldn't have made you feel badly for it." If it had been years prior, before she'd really gotten to know him, Hermione might not have believed the sincerity of his words, or that her tenderness towards him wouldn't have been mocked, but she could now, with his eyes boring into hers making her heart quiver, his thumb still rubbing the skin of her palm.

"You still have a gift." He reminded her, reluctantly letting go of her hand as she held the final present in the box, an envelope like hers. For a moment, she wondered if he had written her a letter as well. As she tore the seal and opened the envelope, she saw what appeared to be a travel brochure, moving pictures of wizards and witches, and then a simple card that said, 'Join me'.

"You love those islands so much, you've only mentioned them a thousand times and I've never been, I thought you might like to show me around." Hermione was stunned, he was asking her for a holiday, just the two of them in a place she thought the most romantic of anywhere she'd ever been.

"You really want to go to Terceira? With me?" Smelling the card, Hermione felt her mind go to Terceira, the ocean breeze in her hair, the salt on her skin, the wine on her lips, and this time, Severus with her.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Shoving the box aside but still careful not to spill the hydrangea petals inside, Hermione threw herself at Severus, his arms folding around her as though it was a common occurrence to hold her in such proximity. He'd missed the softness of her body in his arms, the way her happiness and comfort vibrated against him, and though it had happened only when he was having an episode, it was enough to stay with him whenever he needed the embrace. Now, he hoped he could hold her whenever he wanted. Squeezing her tightly back, Severus felt her tears against his cheek and pulled away, his thumb moving to wipe them away.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm just in shock, I never thought this would happen...I didn't even know I felt this way until a month ago, or at least I didn't admit it to myself, and I was sure, for a time, that you would never feel the same. I'm just so happy." Pushing a few strands of her hair behind her hair, Severus leaned forward again and touched his lips to hers, softly and chastely at first, then when they'd found the right positioning, he felt the urgency of her kiss, the way her body was melting into his and pushing him against the poster of the bed, until she was almost in his lap. When he finally broke the kiss, he saw the redness of her cheeks and the proper swelling of her lips; he doubted she'd ever looked more beautiful.

"So that's a yes?" His voice flowed her over like a deep, babbling brook, and she wished for nothing more than him to continue talking to her, but as she knelt back and felt the coolness of the room hit her again, she knew she was letting herself get carried away.

"I would love to." Hermione felt herself getting nervous, even anxious as he sat across from her, feeling inexperienced and in unfamiliar territory.

"Good, I thought we might go this week unless you have other plans? I hear there's a wine festival in Angra."

"You really did your research." Pecking him on the cheek, she stood for a moment, taking her gifts to the end table and charming the petals so they wouldn't die. Before she could turn back to him, he was there, holding her again, his arms folded around her as she looked at the brochure again and then setting it down.

"I wanted you to be happy." Twisting in his arms, Hermione turned to face him, their mouths meeting again for a moment as she knotted her hands together behind his back.

"I am incredibly happy, I didn't expect this at all. You're far more affectionate than I imagined you'd be, Severus." Nipping at her lips, his eyes flashed large as she pulled him tightly towards her. Noting his surprise, Hermione giggled a bit, tugging at the waist of his pajama bottoms. They'd been this close before, closer even when she'd had to help him to the bath a few times, but it had never felt so exciting, thrilling.

"How long have you fancied me?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Longer than you would believe, I"m sure. You endeared yourself to me as a devoted friend and my affection for you is for you only, you won't see me pawing you in the Great Hall." Hermione couldn't stifle her laughter as she imagined him holding her tightly at the high table, or snogging her in the hallways on their way to classes.

"Good, I wouldn't want to make everyone jealous." It was his turn to rumble, pulling her so close the side of her face rested against his chest before his lips found hers again, passion igniting between them as though they'd been lovers for years. Moments later, breathless and not in the least tired, Hermione looked up to him.

"I'm not ready to go to bed yet." She whispered innocently, realizing the double entendre of her words, she blushed and pulled away. "Um, I meant…"

"I'm not ready to go to bed either, minx." Calling for Kreacher, he ordered them tea and watched as Hermione turned several shades of red before finally calming down enough to join him on the bed again.

"Sugar?" He asked after Kreacher put the tray down on the side table, the steaming pot immediately soothing Hermione's nerves.

"Yes, please." Dropping the cube in her cup, he smirked at her again this time understanding that her choice of sugar was related to her apparent deliriousness, and as though it had always been their custom, he leaned into her, tasting the hot Earl Grey on her lips and fantasizing, for a moment, the day when she would be ready for bed, how he was sure the crimson of her cheeks stretched across her entire body. His mind wandered until he finished his tea and saw her eyes drooping as she talked about all the things they could do when they went to Terceira. Taking her cup and setting it on the side table, he pulled the covers back and tucked her in, lying beside her for a time as she continued to talk about the volcano and the potions ingredients he could potentially gather, yawning several times before finally closing her eyes for a moment and then opening them abruptly to stare at him.

"This isn't a dream?" He could tell by her dilated pupils that he blood pressure had spiked in that eerie place between wakefulness and dreaming, so he leaned over and kissed her again.

"Not a dream. Close your eyes and get some sleep, I'll be here in the morning." Nodding sweetly, she pulled the covers a bit higher and closed her eyes, hoping he really would stay, happy to find him asleep across from her, his arms clutching a throw pillow and his face soft hours later. She couldn't believe how delightfully it had all turned out, all the same admitting to herself that things with him would never be easy, and found herself, for the first time in years, unafraid of the future because it would include him, for as long as he'd have her, and that was Christmas present enough for a lifetime.


End file.
